Sunday, May 14, 2006

the kindness of strangers

Some time ago, when i met D, my former master, i was in fact supposed to be keeping myself off the market for some time as i was meant to meet someone else a couple of days later and i normally don't like double booking meetings with masters as i don't want to have to cancel a meeting with a master because i have become owned by another. Well, becoming owned is hardly something that happens everyday so chances that this will happen are pretty small. Even so, i still like to avoid this possibility by not arranging anything between the time i've arranged to see a master and the time we actually meet. Well, with D, this is exactly what happened: the day after he took me as his slave, i called the man i was supposed to meet to apologise and cancel our appointment.

But we stayed in touch on and off online. A couple of messages now and then. Recently he has committed seriously to a vanilla relationship and has agreed to get rid of all his toys. He decided to give them to someone and he has kindly given them to me. We met a couple of weeks ago for the first time, just before i went to Thailand, and he handed me a box all taped shut that made a sort of rattling noise if shaken. I was quite curious on my way home. On the bus i decided to have a peak. i imagined getting off my seat to leave the bus and tripping, i imagined the box flying in the air and all the toys disseminated all over the bus with me spreadeagled face down on the floor of the vehicle. It was quite a funny thought but i went ahead and looked inside anyway. I broke the tape with my keys and took a look inside. It was difficult to identify a lot of the stuff in there as it was predominantly black in a dark box.

At home it was it a little like a kinky christmas morning with a lot of what's-this's and what's-that's.

The box is now in my closet. I don't really use a lot of the stuff in there. The only thing to come out of it with some regularity is a set of nipple clamps. I hate the damn things, they hurt like hell and i can only keep them on for a very short time but they were a favourite of my former Master and putting them on is a really strange experience. They awaken me. i forget what it's like to have them on, i think i can take it, so i put them on and the moment they bite into my flesh i'm reminded of what they are, what they do, and what my former slave life was like, what it felt like suffering at the hand of my master and being powerless in his presence. They also immediately get me hard. I hate them and they get me hard. As someone who's not really into pain, i'm surprised by this. Perhaps it's the effect of training, i don't know. I'm nostalgic and excited by this pain that i dislike. There's no denying it. Every now and then the clamps have to come on and as my nipples suffer squashed and tortured, i close my eyes and i remember.

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